


The Truth About Galas

by goldensnitch18



Series: Scared, Potter? [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:55:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23461336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldensnitch18/pseuds/goldensnitch18
Summary: Harry doesn't like galas, and that is the truth.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Scared, Potter? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1012863
Kudos: 33





	The Truth About Galas

Harry didn’t know much about high society, and that was the ruddy truth. He didn’t think that it was really all that important, and he had never put much effort into figuring it out, to be honest. There were things about the Wizarding World that would never, ever, no matter how long he lived in it make sense. They just wouldn’t. One of those things was galas.

But really, what in the bloody hell was the purpose of a gala?

He had been to many now, nearly all of them stuffy, uncomfortable, and intolerable. He wore robes that cost an outrageous amount, donated an outrageous amount of galleons to whatever it was they were raising money for, and drank rather shit alcohol to try to keep from sharing his very unpopular opinions about galas. 

Hermione would keep the alcohol coming, but she also had the uncanny ability to know the precise moment when he should switch to water. She was clever like that. Even with her belly swelling out in front of her, making Harry nervous about whether she should be in those heels, she still took care of him. She was a good friend. 

Ron also attended the dumb things, but he didn’t seem to mind. He liked to talk to the people he hadn’t seen in a while, telling stories and laughing loudly. Ron had somehow become their buffer, entertaining all the people Harry and Hermione had no interest in getting to know. It was nice of him. He did a good job. 

There was, however, only so much of the bullshit that Harry could handle before he would excuse himself. No matter where they were, he would disappear for at least 40 minutes to wander around the property, telling Ron and Hermione he needed to be alone for a short while. This gala was being held at Nott Manor. It was quite the affair that Theodore and Daphne had put together to raise funds for … well, Harry honestly couldn’t fucking remember. He’d given them money for it, so it probably was fine. 

Sometimes, nearly every time, while he wandered, he would run into someone. That someone tended to be tall, slender, and agile. He tended to have blond hair, silver eyes, and a quick wit. That someone would take Harry, foul mood and all, and pull it out of him with his magic mouth while he kneeled before Harry, fisting his expensive robes. Sometimes, Harry would bend him over a chair or a desk or a railing and line his cock up just right, sliding inside, letting all the idiocy of the night go as hips thrust. Maybe, Harry would even kiss him, rough and heavy, teeth clashing, lips sore and swollen, robes disheveled. 

Then, it would be over. Harry would go back to the gala, and he would be okay again. He would make it through to the end. He would persevere with his newfound good mood, and he would hope to bloody hell that someone was going to be hosting another gala soon.


End file.
